01 - Three Ghost Stories by Charles Dickens

Delve into the eerie and enchanting world of Charles Dickens, a master storyteller with a fascination for the supernatural. In this collection, we present three of his captivating ghost stories, including the renowned The Signal Man. While these tales differ from his celebrated realistic and humorous novels, they offer a unique blend of Gothic atmosphere and intriguing characters, making them a must-listen for fans of the macabre. Summary by Vivian Chan.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Section one of three ghost Stories. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Three
ghost Stories by Charles Dickens. Section one. The signal man,

(00:26):
hullo below there when he heard a voice thus calling
to him. He was standing at the door of his
box with a flag in his hand, furled round its
short pole. One would have thought, considering the nature of
the ground, that he could not have doubted from what
quarter the voice came. But instead of looking up to

(00:47):
where I stood on the top of the steep cutting
nearly over his head, he turned himself about and looked
down the line. There was something remarkable in his manner
of doing so. I could not have said for my
life what, but I know it was remarkable enough to
attract my notice, even though his figure was foreshortened and

(01:09):
shadowed down in the deep trench, and mine was high
above him, so steep did the glow of an angry
sunset that I had shaded my eyes with my hand
before I saw him at all, hullo below. From looking
down the line, he turned himself about again, and raising
his eyes saw my figure high above him. Is there

(01:32):
any path by which I can come down and speak
to you? He looked up at me without replying, and
I looked down at him, without pressing him too soon,
with a repetition of my idle question. Just then there
came a vague vibration in the earth and air, quickly
changing into a violent pulsation and an oncoming rush that

(01:53):
caused me to start back, as though it had forced
to draw me down. When such vapor as rose to
my height from this rapid train had passed me and
was skimming away over the landscape, I looked down again
and saw him refurling the flag he had shown while
the train went by. I repeated my inquiry. After a

(02:14):
pause during which he seemed to regard me with fixed attention,
he motioned his rolled up flag towards the point on
my level, some two or three hundred yards distant. I
called down to him, I'll ride, and made for that point.
There By dint of looking closely about me, I found
a rough zigzag descending path, not doubt which I followed.

(02:39):
The cutting was extremely deep and unusually precibited. It was
made through a clammy stone that became oozier and wetter
as I went down. For these reasons, I found the
way long enough to give me time to recall a
singular air of reluctance or compulsion with which he had
pointed out the path. When I came him down low

(03:00):
enough upon the zigzag descent to see him again, I
saw that he was standing between the rails and the
way by which the train had lately passed, in an
attitude as if he were waiting for me to appear.
He had his left hand at his chin, and that
left elbow rested on his right hand crossed over his breast.

(03:21):
His attitude was one of such expectation and watchfulness that
I stopped a moment wondering at it. I resumed my
downward way, and, stepping out upon the level of the railroad,
and drawing nearer to him, saw that he was a dark,
sallow man, with a dark beard and rather heavy eyebrows.
His post was in a solitary and dismal a place,

(03:43):
as ever, I saw on either side a dripping, wet
wall of jagged stone, excluding all view but a strip
of sky, the perspective one way only a crooked prolongation
of this great dungeon, the shorter perspective in the other direction,
terminating in a glowe me red light, and the gloomier
entrance to a black tunnel, in whose massive architecture there

(04:05):
was a barbarous, depressing and forbidding air. So little sunlight
ever found its way to this spot that it had
an earthy, deadly smell, and so much cold wind rushed
through it that it struck chill to me, as if
I had left the natural world before he stirred, I
was near enough to have touched him, not even then,

(04:28):
removing his eyes from mine, he stepped back one step
and lifted his hand. This was a lonesome post to occupy,
I said, and it had riveted my attention when I
looked down from up yonder. A visitor was a rarity,
I should suppose, not an unwelcome rarity, I hoped in me.
He merely saw a man who had been shut up

(04:50):
within narrow limits all his life, and who, being at
last set free, had a newly awakened interest in these
great works. To such perurpose, I spoke to him. But
I am far from shore of the terms I used.
For Besides that, I am not happy in opening any conversation.
There was something in the man that daunted me. He

(05:13):
directed a most curious look towards the red light near
the tunnel's mouth, and looked all about it as if
something were missing from it, and then looked at me.
That life was part of his charge? Was it not,
he answered, in a low voice. Don't you know it is?
The monster's thought came into my mind as I perused

(05:34):
the fixed eyes and the saturnine face, that this was
a spirit, not a man. I have speculated since whether
there may have been infection in his mind. In my turn,
I stepped back, But in making the action I detected
in his eyes some latent fear of me. This put
the monster's thought to flight. You look at me, I said,

(05:58):
forcing a smile. If you had a dread of me,
I was doubtful. He returned. Whether I had seen you before?
Where he pointed to the red light He had looked
at there, I said, intently, watchful of me, he replied,
but without sound, Yes, my good fellow, What should I

(06:20):
do there? However? Be that as it may, I never
was there? You may swear I think I may, he rejoined, Yes,
I am sure I may. His manner cleared like my own,
he replied to my remarks with readiness and in well
chosen words. Had he much to do there? Yes? That

(06:40):
was to say he had enough responsibility to bear. But
exactness and watchfulness were what was required of him, And
of actual work, manual labor he had next to none.
To change that signal, to trim those lights, and to
turn this iron handle now and then was all he
had to do under that head, guarding those many long

(07:01):
and lonely hours of which I seemed to make so much.
He could only say that the routine of his life
had shaped itself into that forum, and he had grown
used to it. He had taught himself a language down here,
if only to know it by sight, and to have
formed his own crude ideas of its pronunciation, could be
called learning it. He had also worked at fractions and decimals,

(07:25):
and tried a little algebra, But he was, and had been,
as a boy, a poor hand at figures. Was it
necessary for him, when on duty, always to remain in
that channel of damp air, and could never rise into
the sunshine from between those high stone walls. Why that
depended upon times and circumstances. Under some conditions there would

(07:48):
be less upon the line than under others, and the
same held good as to certain hours of the day
and night in bright weather. He did choose occasions for
getting a little above these lower shadow, but being at
all times liable to be called by his electric bell,
and at such times listening for it with redoubled anxiety,

(08:09):
the relief was less than I would suppose. He took
me into his box, where there was a fire, a
desk for an official book in which he had to
make certain entries, a telegraphic instrument with its dial, face
and needles, and the little bell of which he had
spoken on my trusting that he would excuse the remark

(08:31):
that he had been well educated, and I hoped, I
might say, without offense, perhaps educated above that station, he
observed that instances of slight incongruity in such wives would
rarely be found wanting among large bodies of men, that
he had heard it was so in workhouses, in the
police force, even in that last desperate resource, the army,

(08:56):
and that he knew it was so more or less
in any great railway step he had been when young.
If I could believe it, sitting in that hut, he
scarcely could a student of natural philosophy, and had attended lectures,
but he had run wild, misused his opportunities, gone down,

(09:17):
and never risen again. He had no complaint to offer
about that. He had made his bed, and he lay
upon it. It was far too late to make another.
All that I have here condensed, he said, in a
quiet manner, with his grave, dark regards divided between me
and the fire. He threw in the word sir from

(09:41):
time to time, and especially when he referred to his youth,
as though to request me to understand that he claimed
to be nothing but what I found him. He was
several times interrupted by the little bell, and had to
read off messages and send replies. Once he had to
stand without the door and play a flag as the
train passed, and make some verbal communication to the driver.

(10:05):
In the discharge of his duties, I observed him to
be remarkably exact and vigilant, breaking off his discourse at
a syllable and remaining silent until what he had to
do was done. In a word, I should have set
this man down as one of the safest of men
to be employed in that capacity, but for the circumstance

(10:25):
that while he was speaking to me. He twice broke
off with a fallen color, turned his face towards the
little bell when it did not ring, opened the door
of the hut, which was kept shut to exclude the
unhealthy damp, and looked out towards the red light near
the mouth of the tunnel. On both of those occasions
he came back to the fire with the inexplicable air

(10:47):
upon him which I had remarked without being able to
define when we were so far asunder, said I, when
I rose to leave him. You almost make me think
that I have met with a contented man. I am
afraid I must acknowledge that I said to lead him on.
I believe I used to be so. He rejoined in

(11:10):
the low voice in which he had first spoken. But
I am troubled, sir, I am troubled. He would have
recalled the words if he could. He had said them, however,
and I took them up quickly with what what is
your trouble? It is very difficult, impart, sir. It is
very very difficult to speak of. If you ever make

(11:33):
me another visit, I will try to tell you. But
I expressly intend to make you another visit. Say when
shall it be. I go off early in the morning,
and I shall be on again at ten tomorrow night, Sir,
I will come at eleven. He thanked me and went
out at the door with me. I'll show you my
white light, sir, he said, in his peculiar low voice,

(11:57):
till you have found the way up. When you have
found it, don't call out. And when you are at
the top, don't call out. His manner seemed to make
the place strike colder to me. But I said, no
more than very well. And when you come down to
morrow night, don't call out. Let me ask you a
parting question. What made you cry hollo below there to night?

(12:21):
Heaven knows, said I. I cried something to that effect.
Not to that effect, sir, those were the very words.
I know them well, admit those word the very words.
I said them, no doubt, because I saw you below
for no other reason. What other reason could I possibly have?

(12:43):
You had no feeling that they were conveyed to you
in any supernatural way. No, He wished me good night
and held up his light. I walked by the side
of the down line of rails with a very disagreeable
sensation of a train coming behind me, until I found
the path. It was easier to mount than to descend,
and they got back to my inn without any adventure.

(13:06):
Punctual to my appointment. I placed my foot on the
first notch of the zig zag. Next night, as the
distant clocks were striking eleven, he was waiting for me
at the bottom with his white light on. I have
not called out, I said, when we came close together,
May I speak now by all means, sir? Good night then,

(13:28):
and here is my hand, good night, sir, and here
is mine. With that, we walked side by side to
his box, entered it, closed the door, and sat down
by the fire. I have made up my mind, sir,
he began, bending forward as soon as we were seated,
and speaking in a tone but a little above a whisper,

(13:48):
that you shall not have to ask me twice? What
troubles me? I took you for some one else yesterday evening.
That troubles me. That mistake, No, that some one else?
Who is it? I don't know, Like me, I don't know.
I never saw the face. The left arm is across

(14:10):
the face, and the right arm is waved violently waved
this way. I followed his action with my eyes, and
it was the action of an arm jesticulating with the
utmost passionate vehemence for God's sake, cleared away one moonlight night,
said the man. I was sitting here when I heard
a voice cry, hallo below there. I started up, looked

(14:34):
from that door and saw this some one else standing
by the red light near the tunnel, waving as I
just now showed you. The voice seemed horse was shouting,
and it cried, look out, look out, and then again
hallo below there, look out. I caught up my lamp,
turned it on red, and ran towards the figure, calling

(14:56):
what's wrong? What has happened? Where it stood just outsid
the blackness of the tunnel. They advanced so close upon
it that I wondered at its keeping the sleeve across
its eyes. I ran right up at it and had
my hand stretched out to pull the sleeve away. When
it was gone into the tunnel, said I. No. I

(15:19):
ran on into the tunnel five hundred yards. I stopped
and held my lamp above my head and saw the
figures of the measured distance, and saw the wet stains
tealing down the walls and trickling through the arch. I
ran out again faster than I had run in, for
I had a mortal abhorrence of the place upon me.

(15:39):
And I looked all round the red light with my
own red light, and I went up the iron ladder
to the gallery at above it, and I came down
again and ran back here. I telegraphed both ways, an
alarm has been given, Is anything wrong? The answer came
back both ways all well. Resisting the slow touch of

(16:01):
a frozen finger tracing out my spine, I showed him
how that this figure must be a deception of his
sense of sight, and how that figures originating in disease
of the delicate nerves that minister to the functions of
the eye, were known to have often troubled patients, some
of whom had become conscious of the nature of the refliction,
and had even proved it by experiments upon themselves. As

(16:25):
to an imaginary cry, said, I do but listen for
a moment with the wind in this unnatural valley, while
we speak so low, and to the wild harp it
makes of the telegraph wires. That was all very well.
He returned after we had sat listening for a while,
and he ought to know something of the wind and
the wires, he who so often passed long winter nights

(16:46):
there alone and watching. But he would beg to remark
that he had not finished. I asked his pardon, and
he slowly added these words, touching my arm. Within six
hours after the appearance, the memorable accident on this line happened,
and within ten hours the dead and wounded were brought
along through the tunnel over the spot where the figure

(17:09):
had stood. A disagreeable shudder crept over me. But I
did my best against it. It was not to be denied.
I rejoined that this was a remarkable coincidence, calculated deeply
to impress his mind. But it was unquestionable that remarkable
coincidences did continually occur, and they must be taken into
account in dealing with such a subject. Though to be sure,

(17:32):
I must admit, I added, for I thought I saw
that he was going to bring the objection to bury
upon me. Men of common sense did not allow much
for coincidences in making the ordinary calculations of life. He
again begged to remark that he had not finished. I
again begged his pardon, for being betrayed into interruptions. This

(17:52):
he said, again, laying his hand upon my arm. And
glancing over his shoulder with hollow eyes. Was just a
year ago. Six or seven months passed, and I had
recovered from the surprise and shock. When one morning, as
the day was breaking, I standing at the door, looked
towards the red light and saw the specter again. He

(18:15):
stopped with a fixed look at me. Did it cry out, no,
it was silent. Did it wave its arm no. It
leaned against the shaft of the light with both hands
before the face like this once more. I followed his
action with my eyes. It was an action of mourning.
I have seen such an attitude in stone figures and tombs.

(18:38):
Did you go up to it? I came in and
sat down, partly to collect my thoughts, partly because it
had turned me faint. When I went to the door again,
daylight was above me and the ghost was gone. But
nothing followed, Nothing came off this. He touched me on
the arm with his forefinger twice or thrice, giving a

(18:59):
gavastly not each time. That very day, as a train
came out of the tunnel, I noticed at a carriage
window on my side what looked like a confusion of
hands and heads, and something waved. I saw it just
in time to signal the driver stop. He shut off

(19:20):
and put his brake on, but the train drifted past
here a hundred and fifty yards or more. I ran
after it, and as I went along heard terrible screams
and cries. A beautiful young lady had died instantaneously in
one of the compartments, and was brought in here and
laid down on this floor between us. Involuntarily, I pushed

(19:43):
my chair back as I looked from the boards, at
which he pointed to himself. True, sir, True, precisely as
it happened, So I tell it you. I could think
of nothing to say to any purpose, and my mouth
was very dry. The wind and the w took up
the story with a long, lamenting wail. He resumed, Now, Sir,

(20:06):
marked this, and judge how my mind is troubled. The
specter came back a week ago. Ever since, it has
been there now and again by fits, and starts at
the light, at the danger light. What does it seem
to do? He repeated, If possible, with increased passion and vehemence,
that former gesticulation of for God's sake cleared the way.

(20:28):
Then he went on, I have no peace or rest
for it. It calls to me for many minutes together
in an agonized manner. Below there, look out, look out,
It stands waving to me. It rings my little bell.
I caught at that. Did it ring your bell? Yesterday evening?
When I was here and you went to the door twice? Why? See,

(20:51):
said I, How your imagination misleads you. My eyes were
on the bell, and my ears were opened to the bell.
And if I am a living man, it did not
ring at those times, no, nor at any other time,
except when it was wrong in the natural course of
physical things by the station communicating with you, He shook
his head. I have never made a mistake as to

(21:11):
that yet, sir, I have never confused the specter's ring
with the man's. The ghost's ring is a strange vibration
in the bell that it derives from nothing else. And
I have not asserted that the bell stirs to the eye.
I don't wonder that you failed to hear it. But
I heard it, and did the specter seem to be

(21:32):
there when you looked out? It was there both times,
he repeated firmly, both times. Will you come to the
door with me and look for it? Now? He bit
his underlip, as though he were somewhat unwilling, but arose.
I opened the door and stood on the step while
he stood in the doorway. There was a danger light.

(21:56):
There was the small mouth of the tunnel. There were
the high wet stone walls of the cutting. There were
the stars above them. Do you see it? I asked him,
taking particular note of his face. His eyes were prominent
and strained, but not very much more so, perhaps than
my own had been when I had directed them earnestly
towards the same spot. No, he answered, it is not there, agreed,

(22:19):
said I. We went in again, shut the door, and
resumed our receipts. I was thinking how best to improve
this advantage, if it might be called one, when he
took up the conversation in such a matter of coarse way,
so assuming that there could be no serious question of
fact between us, that I felt myself placed to the
weakest of positions. By this time. You will fully understand, sir,

(22:43):
He said that what troubles me so dreadfully is the
question what does the specter mean? I was not sure.
I told him that I did fully understand. What is
its warning against? He said, ruminating with his eyes on
the fire, and only by times earning them on me.
What is the danger? Where is the danger? There is

(23:05):
danger over hanging somewhere on the line, Some dreadful calamity
will happen. It is not to be doubted this third time,
after what has gone before. But surely this is a
cruel haunting of me. What can I do? He pulled
out his handkerchief and wiped the drops from his heated forehead.
If I telegraphed danger on either side of me, or

(23:27):
on both, I can give no reason for it. He
went on, wiping the palms of his hands. I should
get into trouble and do no good. They would think
I was mad. This is the way it would work.
Message danger, take care? Answer what danger where? Message don't know,
But for God's sake, take care. They would displace me.

(23:48):
What else could they do? His pain of mind was
most pitiable to see. It was the mental torture of
a conscientious man, oppressed beyond endurance by an unintelligible responsibility
involving life when it first stood under the danger light.
He went on, putting his dark hair back from his
head and drawing his hands outward, across and across his

(24:09):
temples in an extremity of feverish distress. Why not tell
me where that accident was to happen, If it must happen,
why not tell me how it could be averted? If
it could have been averted, when on its second coming
it hid its face, Why not tell me instead she
is going to die. Let them keep her at home.
If it came on those two occasions only to show

(24:32):
me that its warnings were true, and so to prepare
me for the third, why not warn me plainly now?
And I Lord help me a mere poor signal man
on this solitary station, Why not go to somebody with
credit to be believed and power to act? When I
saw him in this state, I saw that for the
poor man's sake as well as for the public safety,

(24:54):
what I had to do for the time was to
compose his mind. Therefore, setting aside all question of reality
or unreality between us, I represented to him that whoever
thoroughly discharged his duty must do well, and that at
least it was his comfort that he understood his duty,
though he did not understand these confounding appearances. In this

(25:16):
effort I succeeded far better than in the attempt to
reason him out of his conviction. He became calm. The
occupations incidental to his post as the night advanced began
to make larger demands on his attention, and I left
him at two in the morning. I had offered to
stay through the night, but he would not hear of it.
That I more than once looked back at the red

(25:37):
light as I assented the pathway, that I did not
like the red light, and that I should have slept
but poorly if my bid had been under it. I
see no reason to conceal, nor did I like the
two sequences of the accident and the dead girl. I
see no reason to conceal that either. But what ran
most in my thoughts was the consideration, how ought I

(25:59):
to add, having become the recipient of this disclosure? I
had proved the man to be intelligent, vigilant, painstaking and exact,
But how long might he remain so? In his state
of mind? Though in a subordinate position, still he held
a most important trust, And would I, for instance, like
to stake my own life on the chances of his

(26:20):
continuing to execute it with precision? Unable to overcome a
feeling that there would be something treacherous in my communicating
what he had told me to his superiors in the
company without first being plain with himself, and proposing a
middle course to him. I ultimately resolved to offer to
accompany him, otherwise keeping his secret for the present to
the wisest medical practitioner we could hear of in those parts,

(26:43):
and to take his opinion. A change in his time
of duty would come round next night, he had apprised me,
and he would be off an hour or two after sunrise,
and on again soon after sunset. I had appointed to
return accordingly. Next evening was a lovely evening, and I
walked out early to enjoy it. The sun was not

(27:04):
yet quite down when I traversed the field path near
the top of the deep cutting. I would extend my
walk for an hour, I said to myself, half an
hour on and half an hour back, and it would
then be time to go to my signal man's box.
Before pursuing my stroll, I stepped to the brink and
mechanically looked down from the point from which I had

(27:25):
first seen him. I cannot describe the thrill that seized
upon me when close at the mouth of the tunnel
I saw the appearance of a man with his left
sleeve across his eyes, passionately waving his arm. The nameless
horror that oppressed me passed in a moment, For in
a moment I saw that this appearance of a man

(27:46):
was a man, indeed, and that there was a little
group of other men standing at a short distance, to
whom he seemed to be rehearsing the gesture he made.
The danger light was not yet lighted against its shaft.
A little low, entirely new to me, had been made
of some wooden supports and turpollen. It looked no bigger

(28:06):
than a bed. With an irresistible sense that something was wrong,
with a flashing self reproachful fear that fatal mischief had
come of my leaving the man there and causing no
one to be sent to overlook or correct what he did.
I descended the notched path with all the speed I
could make. What is the matter, he asked the man

(28:26):
signal man killed this morning, sir, Not the man belonging
to that box, Yes, sir, not the man I know.
You will recognize him, sir, if you knew him, said
the man who spoke for the others, sulemnly, uncovering his
own head and raising an end of the turpollin for
his face is quite composed. Oh, how did this happen?

(28:47):
How did this happen? I asked, turning from one to another.
As the hut closed again, he was cut down by
an engine. Sir. No man in England knew his work better,
but somehow he was not clear of the outer rail.
It was us that broad day. He had struck the
light and had the lamp in his hand. As the
engine came out of the tunnel. His back was towards her,

(29:07):
and she cut him down. That man drove her and
was showing how it happened, showed the gentleman Tom. The
man who wore a rough dark dress, stepped back to
his former place at the mouth of the tunnel, coming
round the curve in the tunnel, Sir, he said, I
saw him at the end, like as if I saw
him down a perspective glass. There was no time to
take speede and I know him to be very careful,

(29:29):
as he didn't seem to take heed of the whistle.
I shut it off when were running down upon him,
and called to him as loud as I could call.
What did you say, I said, well, aw there, look out,
look out, for God's sake, clear the way I started. Ah,
it was a dreadful time, sir, and never left half
calling to him. I put this arm before my eyes
not to see, and I waved this arm to the last.

(29:51):
But it was no use. Without prolonging, the narrative did
dwell on any of its curious circumstances, more than on
any other. I may, in closing up, point out the
coincidence that the warning of the engine driver included not
only the words which the unfortunate signal man had repeated
to me as haunting him, but also the words which I,
myself not he had attached, and that only in my

(30:15):
own mind to the distigalation he had imitated. End of
Section one.